A Certain Man Poem by James McLain

I am well, my love, because of you.
Why my head,
then which when with you it goes it can consume me,
and drink the word each every other word
which you who load the heart felt lips
it is eagerly it desires run faster run come sun now hurry
and my mouth because of you the wine is red
where the fragrance of the rose, see the lily bloom
and it is good to do to touch to taste and paint
and I trace your found amount where thereupon each fingertip
where grace is when it's guided off into individually
has been away to long I fear
and when I stand when I am doing your dress rehearsals
and your list of love of me, well, sets you free, as for me,
your admiration which they applaud it is,
I observed so feverishly and frequently now is laughing.
And me with you we both rejoice, now sing the night is joy.